Lacrosse

25- Leaving and Believing

"Then what was it?"

"You seriously don't know?" I ask and he just looks back at me blankly. "Wow. You're unbelievable sometimes you know."

I yank my hand from his grip and sling the duffel bag higher up on my shoulder, walking out the door and down the stairs.

"Kendall, please don't leave. I want you to stay here," he begs, but he doesn't understand. He truly doesn't know why I want to leave, and that just makes me want to leave even more.

I walk in to the garage and grab my stick and string bag that holds my goggles and mouth guard. I enter the house again and walk out the front door, Josh still following behind me, begging me to stay.

The sun has just begun to rise, casting an orange tint across the sky. The air is still cool, causing goosebumps to rise up on my arms and neck.

"Kendall, please. Don't leave. Stay here one more night. I don't want you to go," Josh pleads.

"I can't stay here! I can't stay with you right now!" I shout.

"Me? What did I do?" he questions.

"The fact that you don't know what you did just makes it worse!"

"Tell me what I did so I can fix it!"

"Figure it out on your own!" I hiss.

"Just come back inside and we can talk about it." He puts his hands on my shoulders and looks deep into my eyes, but I simply push him away.

"No."

"Well what do you want me to do if you won't tell me what's wrong?"

"You should know what's wrong! You should've been able to tell, but no. You don't pay attention. You don't care," I cry, my face turning a bright red from my anger.

"I don't care?" he gasps. "Yeah, totally. I definitely don't give a crap about you. I definitely didn't stay the night with you when you were scared on Thursday. I definitely didn't let you stay with me since they found out where you lived. I definitely didn't do everything I could to defend you from that creep Michael Corbin!"

Destiny pulls her Dodge truck in to Josh's circular driveway and I start walking towards it, but Josh gets in front of me, blocking my path.

"Don't just accuse me of not caring about you and then try to walk away!" he yells. "I care more about you than I care about anyone else in the entire world. I love you Kendall. I love you more than everyone I've ever met combined."

"Let me leave," I say slowly, spelling out each word.

"Tell me why," he demands.

"I already told you. Figure it out." I shove my way past him and almost am at the door to the truck when he finally figures it out.

"Is it about the kiss?" he asks and I turn around quickly.

"Of course it's about the kiss," I snap.

"I already said that I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that. I wasn't thinking." He walks up to me and takes my hands in his, squeezing them slightly. "Please, don't leave. I'm begging you. Don't let my mistake screw this up. I love you."

"Sometimes sorry isn't enough," I say. I drop my hands from his and take the last few steps to the truck. I open the door and pull myself inside, tossing my equipment and overnight stuff in to the back seat.

Destiny pulls out of the driveway without saying a thing. I look out my window as the large house the Hylands live in fades away and then I begin to cry. Everything that has happened starts spilling out. I tell her about the pictures and the voice on the speakers. I tell her about the graffiti and the background check. I even tell her about the rape and the kiss.

Destiny just keeps driving, listening to my sobbing and my story.

"Why didn't you tell me about the stalking? I could've had my dad look in to it," Destiny says once I finally finish rambling. Mr. Simmons is a powerful police officer for the Pittsburgh P.D.

"I thought that it was just a prank to psych me out before the scrimmage. I didn't think anything serious was going to happen," I explain. She just nods her head.

"Are you and Josh over or...," she asks after a bride moment of silence.

I can't even answer the question. I don't know how to. I don't know the answer and quite frankly, I'm unsure of what I want the answer to be at the moment. I love him. I always have loved him, but what he did was horrible. He doesn't understand that what he did was like what happened to me in the equipment room, just not going as far.
All I can do to answer the question is cry, my tears burning my cheeks and dripping on to my pajamas.

We drive the rest of the way to the Simmons' house in silence with nothing but the radio playing quietly filling the car, my thoughts filling my mind, and my tears.